Power Cell
He stood in the engine room of the old downed cruiser and stared at the item he worked so hard to get to, the power cell.
The power cell was the size of a trash can, glowing a faint purple and begging to be sold on the black market. But it was dangerous. Getting them out was tough, twisting the whole thing before lifting it out of the socket. Inside, two great copper pins ran through cooling fluid. Once the pins were free, the power in the cell had a nasty tendency of arcing between them, if that happened you were dead.
He stretched and started. Once or twice he felt the energy running through the housing which was also a ground. When the cell stopped turning, he planted his feet and pulled. The second a gap was made the coolant evaporated in the warm air and billowed out around the cell. As it lifted, he kept the cell close to the centre to prevent massive feedback vapourising him in an instant.
When the pins were free, he turned slowly to lay the cell on a rubber mat he placed before starting. Slipping two thick rubber sheathes on the pins, he relaxed. He could have been nothing more than a greasy stain, but here he stood, looking at his prize. Now the non-trivial matter of getting the sodding thing home…
